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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27734281">Good Boy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiraculousCuddlebug/pseuds/MiraculousCuddlebug'>MiraculousCuddlebug</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Awkward Crush, First Meetings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Jaskier | Dandelion &amp; Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg Friendship, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, M/M, Not Beta Read, Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Swearing, Tattoos, Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg Ships It</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:34:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,478</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27734281</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiraculousCuddlebug/pseuds/MiraculousCuddlebug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>At the insistence of his best friend, Jaskier agrees to get a tattoo -- something he had wanted for years, but never had the guts to do. He expects the needles to be the most intimidating part of the whole situation, but the hot tattoo artist ends up making him into a much bigger mess.</p><p>Rated M for swearing and mild references to sex!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Triss Merigold/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg (Implied)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>239</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Good Boy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello all you lovely people. I know you're lovely because you were interested enough by this dumb idea to click on it!</p><p>This is my first foray into writing for The Witcher fandom and my first fic in a few years, so it may not be my finest work. I also know absolutely nothing about getting a tattoo so it's all guesswork and minor research.</p><p>This was inspired by this tweet:<br/>https://twitter.com/FloralSappho/status/1329287551639638016</p><p>And motivated by @BuffySummers10 on Twitter (Descarada here on AO3). Thank you for the idea! ;)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Yen, no.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yen, yes!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! Whenever I listen to your ideas I end up doing shit not even a drunk college sophomore would do!” Jaskier waved his hands emphatically, absolutely not going to budge on his decision. Yen was not a good influence, no matter how right she thought she was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jask, darling, you need it. Just because you spent your college years studying </span>
  <em>
    <span>ye olde </span>
  </em>
  <span>music and playing Dungeons and Dragons doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have those college experiences at all.” Yennefer smirked, absolutely confident in that way Jaskier hadn’t seen in anyone else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Life-threatening experiences, you mean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yennefer rolled her eyes enough that he was sure they’d roll back into her skull. “Oh, come on. I’m not trying to get you to come do coke with me. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>said</span>
  </em>
  <span> you wanted to do this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>when I was drunk!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Drunk Jaskier has ideas that Sober Jaskier is not on board with!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmh, I think Drunk Jaskier is just more honest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heaving a sigh, Jaskier slumped back onto the well-worn sofa, dropping back from his tense position he had taken up while protesting. He laid an arm over his eyes and grimaced. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t that he was really against the idea of getting a tattoo. It was actually something he had thought about since before he had even been old enough to get one by himself. But without the bravery that alcohol provided him with, he was too scared to consider it. First of all, he didn’t know which parlors were actually decent, he didn’t know where he would want the tattoo to be, he didn’t know how to take care of it afterward… the list went on. He would rather just not have to deal with it, even if it meant having the idea hang around in the back of his head for the rest of his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His arm fell from over his face to the couch cushion with a thump. “I’m getting a drink, want one?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Beer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tea, Yen. It’s 3 pm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Square.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Psycho.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A couple minutes later, Yen broaches the topic again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, I know a guy who could do it. Trustworthy, experienced, all that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Melitele’s tits, Yen. Are you ever going to let it go?”Jaskier took a gulp of his tea, needing the soothing warmth (more like scalding heat) to calm him down. It didn’t work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen, if I really thought you didn’t want to do it, I wouldn’t be pushing. I think you just need someone to get you in there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier scowled into his mug, suddenly hating how well his friend could read him. At his silence, she pushed on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, how about this. Just go in, take a look at the artwork, figure out where you would want it done. Just go and give it a chance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will it get you to stop asking?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yup,” she smirked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine,” Jaskier conceded, letting out an overacted sigh. His friend immediately pulled her phone out and started typing out a message to whoever her contact at the parlor was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you know this person anyway? You don’t even have any tattoos.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They do piercings too,” Yen replied, angling her head to show off her multiple piercings on her ears. A breath passed. “Also, he’s my ex.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That finally caught Jaskier’s attention. “Seriously? And you want to take me there and see him again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finishing off her message, she turned her gaze back on him. “The whole ‘ex’ thing makes it sound worse than it actually is,” she shrugged. “Long story short, we realized that we made better friends than lovers. Our relationship has improved considerably since then. Though it’s a pity we don’t fuck anymore. He was great in bed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even after years of experience with Yennefer, Jaskier could never quite get used to her lack of filter. “Wha-- I’m telling Triss you said that!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yen just snorted at him. “Try it. She’ll probably tell you the same thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He just blinked dumbly for a second before he took in the statement, then rubbed at his eyes with one hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gods save me from this bullshit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Two weeks later, Jaskier was sitting, tense, in the passenger seat of Yennefer’s suspiciously expensive car. He cringed when he felt the car roll to a stop outside a small storefront on one of the main streets. Now that he thought about it, he had passed by the shop many times on his way to and from the coffee shop down the street, but he was always too occupied with his caffeine fix to really pay attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A flick to the side of his head brought him back to the physical plane. “Get out, scaredy-cat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sound like a child,” he grumbled, which Yen ignored.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once he was tugged into the building by Yennefer’s unyielding grip on his wrist, they came face-to-face with a muscular man at the front desk. He had a tattoo on his face - where it seemed to be hiding a deep scar - which, unlike the other face tattoos Jaskier had seen in his life, struck him as tasteful and fitting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A warm grin stretched the ink to the side. “Yen! Great to see you again. You back to fuck shit up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, lucky for you lot, I have another poor soul to unleash chaos upon.” Yen moved her grip to both of Jaskier’s shoulders and moved him to reluctantly stand in front of her, which was apparently her idea of an introduction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After an awkward beat, he stuttered out, “Uh, I’m- Jaskier.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Either not noticing or choosing to ignore his stilted introduction, the man widened his smile further. “Eskel. Nice to meet you,” he replied, extending a large hand which Jaskier shook, hoping his hand wasn’t sweating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as Jaskier had processed the first meeting, another huge man strolled out of the back of the shop, coming over to lean on the desk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yen! Lovely to see you as ever,” he said with a sarcastic smirk, then nodded at Jaskier. “Who’s the twink?” As if he didn’t just say something wildly inappropriate for a first meeting, he took a casual sip from the coffee cup in his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hearing Yen’s snicker from behind and realizing she wasn’t going to help him out, he snarked, “Oh, excuse me for not being included in the group of people built like brick walls who apparently all work here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The new arrival barked out a laugh. “I like it. I’m Lambert.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jaskier,” he supplied hesitantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, don’t mind this dumbass. He has less of a filter than our dear Yen here,” Eskel interjected. “Anyway, I see you have a consultation with Geralt scheduled. You wanna head on back?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier gulped but nodded. He turned to Yen, waiting for her to walk with him, but found a smile that he very much didn’t like the look of. “Go ahead, Jask.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier huffed but, knowing better than to fight Yennefer on any of her decisions, he turned back and walked through the doorway to the back of the shop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was a bit surprised to see how well-lit the room was, though he supposed it made sense. In his head he had been picturing some smoky, dim parlor with lots of intimidating metal contraptions and a color scheme similar to the one he favored at the deepest point of his high school emo phase. Well, he actually was pretty spot-on with the color scheme, most of the room furnished with sofas and tattoo chairs upholstered in black leather. Which also made quite a lot of sense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was startled from his appraisal by somebody clearing their throat from the other side of the room. He really was accurate with his earlier statement about the whole staff being built like giants. The man didn’t tower over Jaskier, but he was much sturdier than him, likely capable of snapping him in half without breaking a sweat.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck, fuck, don’t get horny before you even talk to the man.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The tattoo artist’s warm golden eyes seemed like they could stare into his very deepest thoughts, tugging them out of his head and putting them up for inspection. He had a leather jacket on, fitting right in with the space and showing just the edges of ink curling out from his sleeves and collar. His long hair was pulled up into a haphazard bun, showing off the undercut below and a few subtle piercings dotting his ears. The shade was somewhere in between the trendy kind of grey and the kind of silver that came with age, not quite sitting on either end. It would have been fascinating, Jaskier was sure, if he hadn’t been preoccupied with the man’s frankly </span>
  <em>
    <span>gorgeous face.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The gorgeous face which was currently growing more impatient with each silent second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clearing his throat, Jaskier spoke, praying to every god that his voice didn’t waver. “Hi, uh, I’m here for a consultation? Yen set it up for me. Um, I’m Jaskier.” Thankfully, he got it all out with minimal shaking of his tone of voice. Maybe the guy would believe he was just nervous around new people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm. Geralt.” It took Jaskier a moment to realize the man was giving him his name and holding out a hand for him to shake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Yeah, great- nice to meet you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier took Garalt’s hand in his, trying really, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> hard not to think about how warm it was. And calloused without being too rough. And big enough to basically engulf his own smaller hand. Fuck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, any idea what kind of tattoo you would want to get? Location, any of that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right. I was thinking, like, a buttercup. Y’know, the flower. I don’t really have a reference though.” Jaskier could feel his face growing alarmingly warm, knowing he was probably turning redder by the second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt hummed -- which seemed to be a thing with him -- and turned to flip through a sketchbook on a desk in the corner of the room. With his gaze finally elsewhere, Jaskier felt like he could breathe normally again. He took a moment to admire the sketches and concept art hanging up on the walls. There didn’t seem to be a central theme nor style, but the art all had one thing in common: talent. Whether it was an intricate portrait of someone surrounded by designs of flowers and patterns or a simple design of a random object, the lines were clean and purposeful. Everything clearly had effort put regardless of its level of intricacy. He also spotted a portrait that looked suspiciously like Yennefer, though his attention was pulled away by Geralt speaking up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I drew this on a whim a couple of weeks ago. Obviously I can change the style and colors and everything, but is this along the lines of what you were thinking?” He held out the sketchbook for the smaller man to take, which Jaskier was oddly touched by. Anybody who laid a finger on his songbook would probably have lost a hand shortly thereafter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sketch only took up a corner of the page, but it stood out to Jaskier like a spotlight shone down on it. The single buttercup flower was filled in with soft washes of color, not a harsh line in sight. He could practically feel the satiny petals brushing his fingertips. If Jaskier had had any doubts on what he wanted his tattoo to look like, they were all gone as soon as he saw the unassuming watercolor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s perfect. That’s exactly what I want,” he spoke softly, looking back up at Geralt with bright eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly the dynamic was flipped on its head. Geralt’s cheeks colored, his face turning into some mix of nerves and embarrassment. He averted his eyes from Jaskier’s gaze in favor of looking back down at the page.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to go with the first idea I show you. You’re welcome to make any changes you want-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’d really like it just the way it is now. If- if that’s ok with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt seemed to be searching for words for a moment. “Yeah, yeah, of course. If you’re sure. It’s… kind of hard to change once it’s done.” His face was completely serious while speaking, but there seemed to be a hint of a joking tone towards the end that threw Jaskier, though he recovered quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m certain,” he said with a wide grin. The man nodded and took the book back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that was easy. Now, any idea where you want it to be?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier’s earlier confident enthusiasm fell down a few notches. “Not particularly. I don’t really have any place that comes to mind as the perfect choice, or whatever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt’s intense gaze dropped from Jaskier’s to rove over the rest of his body. Even though he knew his appraisal was purely professional, that didn’t stop Jaskier from turning bright red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt </span>
  <em>
    <span>hmm</span>
  </em>
  <span>ed, considering. “Well, since it’s your first tattoo, it might be a good idea to start somewhere with a little more cushioning, so it doesn’t hurt as much. But if that’s not a concern for you… it might look nice on the side of your ribcage, or somewhere around there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Honestly, Jaskier was a little concerned about how painful it would be. He didn’t exactly have the highest tolerance for it. But now that he had the idea in his head, he was liking it more and more. Biting his lip, he weighed his options and found quite quickly that one far outweighed the other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think that sounds like a great spot! Uh, I am a little nervous about how badly it would hurt though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There are a few things I could do to help a little, but it is still a tattoo. It’s up to you if it’s worth it or not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier hesitated for a bit more before, frankly, getting tired of it. He felt himself nod firmly before he could really make the decision in his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I think I’d like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt, apparently satisfied, just nodded and turned back to the desk, setting the sketchbook down and marking something on the page. “Alright. I’ll get a stencil all ready. You can head back out front and make an appointment for it with Eskel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, right. It was nice meeting you, Geralt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t get a verbal response, but Geralt sent a nod in his direction, the first ghost of a smile gracing his lips. Jaskier was pretty sure there was no verbal response Geralt could have given that would have made his heart stutter the way it did at that. He scampered out of the room before he managed to embarrass himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier was so dazed while making an appointment with Eskel that he missed the knowing looks Yen was sending his way. As well as the snickering at his expense that followed them the whole car ride back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It didn’t quite hit Jaskier just what he got himself into until the morning of his appointment two weeks later. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, all his apprehension about going through with the whole thing came back full force. It wasn’t that he thought Geralt wouldn’t do a good job -- not at all. He just knew himself and his own tendency to flit between thoughts and decisions sometimes faster than even he could keep up with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s how Yen found him a few hours later, sitting on his couch with his knees curled up to his chest and chewing on his thumbnail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman smacked his hand away from his mouth with a huff. “Stop chewing your fingers, you toddler.” Her tone softened the words in a way that he knew from experience meant she was trying not to show she cared. Despite his nerves, he smiled a little to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m starting to regret giving you a key, especially if you’re just going to barge in here and start attacking me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t dignify his dramatics with a response, just tugged him by the wrists until he stood. “Let’s go, I refuse to show up to places late unless I mean to.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yennefer had a special ability to, despite her appearance of being somewhat slight and elegant, push people around with a force that (almost) matched her iron will. It took quite a bit of effort for Jaskier to dig his heels in and halt the both of them before they reached the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yennnn,” he whined, “I’m scaaaared. I don’t wanna be stabbed over and over with a needle by your pretty ex.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She scoffed and said, “Yeah, I’m sure you’d rather he stab you over and over with something else instead.” This only earned her a blank look from Jaskier, which she returned with an eye roll and a long-suffering sigh. “His dick, Jask.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man immediately puffed up and and sputtered, smacking her on the arm and spitting out excuses, which Yen once again ignored in favor of resuming pushing him towards the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Digging his heels in harder, he whined, “What if I regret it after?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How good would you feel if you canceled and decided to give up on it again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sigh. “Not great,” he conceded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh huh. Worst case scenario, you hate it and cover it up or something. Which I sincerely doubt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier thought about it for a few moments, gauging the flipping in his stomach against the desire to just </span>
  <em>
    <span>do it.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He would also get to see Geralt again and hopefully not make a total fool of himself. If he stayed home…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright. Let’s do it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yen smirked satisfiedly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course, because the universe hated him, Geralt was running a bit late, giving Jaskier more time to overthink the whole thing. He could feel his friend’s annoyance rising at his bouncing leg, but he couldn’t help it. It was that or pace around the room, and this option at least made him look slightly less like a lunatic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, he heard the door swing open, the client exchanging quick goodbyes with Geralt before departing. As said man walked into view from the back room, Jaskier popped up from his seat on one of the leather waiting room chairs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, sorry about that, took a little longer than I thought. Come on back,” Geralt waved him forwards. He obeyed, feeling a little like he lost sensation in his legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shutting the door after Jaskier, Geralt patted one of the tattoo chairs with a hand and started preparing everything he needed. Jaskier sat down, feeling a little bit like a kid at the dentist. He chose to stare at a crack in the wall instead of listening to his thoughts or the clinking of Geralt getting things set up. It was just his luck that Eskel was working out front and Lambert had the day off, leaving just him and Geralt in the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt was currently wearing a black button down shirt with the sleeves folded up and buttoned at his elbows, exposing his forearms. Black ink covered them, scenes of wolves, flowers, and gods knew what else dancing across his skin, brought to life by the man’s muscles shifting under his skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He startled when Geralt rolled a stool over and sat down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, if you could just take your shirt off for me please.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gods, I’m going to die because of this man and I won’t even be mad. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jaskier did as he was told, laying back against the cool leather with a gulp. He felt a hand unexpectedly, but gently, touch his upper arm. “You alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier met Geralt’s gaze for the first time that day. His face was neutral, but his gaze was just as warm as Jaskier remembered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y- yeah. I’m just… really nervous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm. Scared of needles?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean… a little, but that’s not really the problem. I just, I don’t know. I don't want to regret it later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt hummed -- more like rumbled -- thoughtfully. “I don’t want you to get it done unless you’re absolutely sure. Do you need more time to consider it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier took a moment to actually think about his answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I’m sure. I think I’m nervous more because I feel like I should be than from actually doubting it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a second, Geralt searched his face, before apparently finding what he was looking for and nodding. “Ok. Let’s get started. Where exactly do you want it to go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier pointed out a spot on the left side of his ribcage and they discussed the angle, position, and whatever else Geralt needed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Geralt’s hands finally touched his bare skin, they were warm, even through the layer of plastic his gloves provided. It shot through Jaskier’s nerve endings, making him shiver -- thankfully, at a moment where Geralt was turned away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both stayed quiet as Geralt prepped the area, taking a few extra moments to apply some numbing cream. It felt like only a few seconds later that the man said, “All set. You ready?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a deep breath, Jaskier nodded, not trusting his voice. The buzzing of the tattoo machine spread through the room like a sort of anxiety-inducing white noise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sting was as shocking as Jaskier thought it would be. He was suddenly grateful he chose such a small design. As Geralt worked, Jaskier started to get used to the feeling; not quite getting comfortable, but familiarizing himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the needle started going right over one of his ribs, he felt himself tense. The sting started spreading as an ache through his side and he tightened his fist, digging his fingernails into the cushioning of his palm. Forcing himself to loosen his muscles, he sucked in air through his nose and let it flow back out gently past his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt’s hand, which had previously been resting just next to the area he was tattooing, slid softly down to slightly caress Jaskier’s waist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good boy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that, all activity in Jaskier’s body stopped. Even his heart stuttered for a second before kicking up to a quicker pace. Any thought that had been bouncing around in his head swiftly dissipated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That two-word phrase murmured in Geralt’s rumbling voice effectively stopped Jaskier from being able to even think about any pain he was feeling. His brain honed in on the sensation of Geralt’s thumb stroking back and forth over his skin and it was as if all input from the nerves outside of the ones Geralt was touching simply ceased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier only remembered to breathe again when his lungs started burning. For the rest of the session, Jaskier sat back in the chair, reeling from the subtle touches of the other man. Far sooner than he anticipated, Geralt was wiping the sensitive skin with disinfectant one last time before shutting off the machine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” he grunted, standing up from his spot and patting Jaskier on the shoulder, “Looks like you’re all set.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Standing up, Jaskier finally looked down at the new design on his skin and grinned. He hadn’t wanted to look at the machine actually putting the ink in its place, but it only made the final reveal all the more satisfying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A perfect little buttercup stem laid against his ribcage, already seeming to be right at home in its new spot. The area was red and slightly puffy, but the little piece of art still seemed to blend seamlessly with his body. He couldn’t have been happier with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His lips parted slightly in awe, Jaskier lifted a hand to touch the flower. Before his fingertips could make contact, a gentle but insistent grip stopped him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Try not to touch it too much. It’ll be sensitive for a while, it’s best to try and keep it as clean as possible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that moment, Jaskier wanted nothing more than to feel Geralt’s grip on his wrist without the layer of latex in between. He could soak in the warmth from his touch, but he wanted it all, wanted to feel the texture of Geralt’s skin on his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he didn’t know how the fuck to say that without sounding like an absolute maniac, so he just nodded and let his arm fall back to his side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt did everything he needed to protect the newly tattooed skin, listing off tips for how to have it heal as quickly and easily as possible. Honestly, Jaskier didn’t pay a whole lot of attention, more interested in the fuzzy feeling he got from listening to the man’s voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, you’re good to go.” That got his attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier felt a sudden wave of panic, feeling like he was letting something important slip through his fingers. As he was trying to find something to say to extend his time with Geralt as much as possible, the artist shed his gloves and washed his hands quickly. Then, much to Jaskier’s surprise, he once again encircled one of his wrists in a hand, </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally</span>
  </em>
  <span> without anything between them. If Jaskier’s brain hadn’t been short-circuiting before, it most definitely was now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So now that you’re technically not a client anymore,” he spoke, seeming to search for words for a moment, “would you be interested in seeing me again? No sharp objects involved this time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Melitele, he was going to faint. He almost pinched himself, but the persistent sting on his side did the job for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh- I… Yeah, I-” he couldn’t seem to string together more than one noise at a time. “... Wait, did you just make a joke?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He received an exasperated look in response. “Yes. I did.” He hesitated, his confidence wavering to expose a bit of nerves underneath. “So- was that a no, or…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” Jaskier yelped as soon as the words registered. “I mean, yes, I, uh… would really like to see you again.” He barely even tried to stifle the ecstatic grin that split across his face, which earned him a soft smile from Geralt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They exchanged numbers, promising to set up something soon. It could have been awkward, but neither man was willing to let it cut through the moment, too happy to bother feeling weird.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they said their goodbyes with the agreement that it would be a short time apart, Geralt inched closer to Jaskier’s body. Soon enough, they were breathing the same air, noses almost touching, the tips of their shoes bumping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A warm, pleasantly rough hand settled against the side of Jaskier’s neck. Geralt tilted the man’s head up slowly, giving him a large window to pull away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fucking hell, you’re going to kill me,” Jaskier muttered, before closing the distance and -- fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally</span>
  </em>
  <span> -- meeting Geralt’s lips in a kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt Geralt chuckle lightly at his words, the sound rocketing straight to his heart and sending it soaring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He really was looking forward to that date, if he could hold on until then.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! I'm open to doing some additional chapters for this of the ~spicier~ variety (probably in a separate work added as a series so I don't have to change the rating for this one). Please let me know if you would have any interest in that kind of thing!</p><p>If you enjoyed, you can also come tell me @PeachieBun06 on Twitter ;)<br/>I only started the account somewhat recently, so I don't really have too many followers, but I promise it's me lol</p><p>I hope you have a wonderful day/night/whenever you may be reading this. I'll be back soon! :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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